Still The Only
by Dylan Cruca
Summary: Sequel to "The Only" and exists in that universe. AU post Season 1. Kurt and Jane navigate the challenges of prospective parenthood and married life.
1. Chapter 1: The Littlest Dweller

**A/N-Okay, well, if you're hoping for something deep and serious, this will probably disappoint you. I just need a little fluff, dammit. I am also starting a post-finale fic, but it's kinda angsty, so I'll probably alternate postings depending on my mood when I'm writing.**

 **So, this pics up from my other story, "The Only" and exists in that universe, so it's AU after Season 1. If you haven't read it, it begins post the Season 1 finale, so Season 2 didn't happen. I've had a few requests for follow-ups to that story, so hopefully some of you out there are still interested.**

 **I really think you have to read the earlier story for this to make sense, but I'll briefly sum up…Kurt and Jane found out they knew each other as part of Orion as younger adults, they escaped the CIA black site Post-season 1, did some adventuring, went in search of Jane's past, came home, renewed their vows and are now married, and expecting a child.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: The Littlest Dweller**

Kurt had never in his life felt as stressed and constantly anxious as he felt since he'd found out Jane was pregnant. He'd also never been happier and more excited. The doctor insisted during the first few months that it was okay for Jane to continue her somewhat insane workout regimen. "As long as you try to avoid direct trauma, it's perfectly healthy to continue working out as normal," the doctor had insisted. "Some women continue to train for marathons and even run them when they're pregnant. As long as your health continues to be good, and you don't make your regimen more intense. We'll continue to monitor your condition. And you need to increase caloric intake appropriately, maintain a healthy, balanced diet."

"She should probably stop combat training, though, right?" Kurt tried, hoping for a small victory since no one was ready to sideline Jane yet. "Martial arts…couldn't the baby get hurt?"

"I don't see a problem with light training and sparring. As long as mother and baby continue to be healthy, the fetus is very well protected. Make sure your sparring partner knows…ask them to be considerate, avoid hitting your abdomen...use common sense," the doctor insisted even though Weller tried to scowl the young woman into submission. Looking at him, she assured, "Healthy women really don't require any extreme restrictions."

"Asking her to avoid combat situations is an extreme restriction?" he argued.

"Obviously you won't take unnecessary risks. You can use good common sense," the doctor said to Jane, "right?"

"Of course," Jane eagerly agreed, although Kurt could think of dozens of times when she rushed in to help someone with a distinct lack of common sense or concern for her own well-being.

"If you have any spotting or cramping, or any other issues, take it easy and give me a call right away."

"I will."

Kurt glared as they left the obstetrician's office and walked out into the bright afternoon sun. Jane patted his arm, "Everything's good."

"Yea," he barked, getting into their car.

"For a man who just got to see a glimpse of his son, you seem pretty angry," she commented, holding up the grainy ultrasound photo.

"I'm not angry. I'm concerned. Why can't you just lay low for a few months?"

"Because that's not me, Kurt," she argued.

"If anything happens to you, either of you…"

"I feel the same way about you. Every single day," she argued.

He plucked the picture from her fingers and stared intently at it. "I think he has your nose," Weller mentioned.

"You think?" she asked, scooting closer.

"Yea," Kurt nodded. Sounding more serious, he added, "I love you. And I already love him, too. I just…I feel like I can't protect you. If something happens and I lose you both…"

"I have been very cautious. There are risks, every single day. For both of us. It would be horrible for our child if he lost you, too, so we both need to be smart."

"Maybe…" Kurt sighed, "I dunno… Maybe it's time to do something else. To have that big yard full of kids and a job where getting shot at isn't a regular occurrence."

"You don't mean that, do you?" she asked nervously.

"I'm not sure," he shook his head. "I think…we should think about it."

"You wouldn't be happy without your job."

"I could be. I could live without my job. I don't think I could live without you."

* * *

Kurt sometimes felt like he was trying to run ten feet ahead of Jane at all times to prevent her from finding harm. When he wasn't trying to steer her from danger, he was trying to get her to eat more. To make everything more difficult, he had to try to do both without her noticing. And Jane, as she'd always been, was too fearless for his taste. It was part of what he loved about her and part of what he feared most about her at the same time. When he walked past the gym, granola bar for her in his pocket, he thought he heard her, so he peered inside. Standing in the center of the room, Jane was fighting. He'd begged her to only spar with him, but Zapata was in the ring with her, and Patterson was standing along the edge.

"What the hell, Jane!" he bellowed as he stormed into the gym.

Jane turned, startled by his voice, and just as she did, Zapata landed one solid punch against Jane's face and Weller winced.

"You okay?" Zapata asked calmly, like she'd ask any other opponent in the gym.

"Ooh, that one's gonna leave a mark," Patterson commented from the sidelines.

"I'm fine," Jane responded coolly. Looking at Weller, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"I thought you were going to spar with me," he said as diplomatically as possible, whispering even though he knew the others could hear the conversation.

"I have been - I mean - I was." Jane sheepishly added, "but Zapata doesn't treat me like I'm weak and helpless. Lately, sparring with you is like fighting a ninety year-old."

"Excuse me!?"

"It's nothing personal. You're just too gentle. Too scared of hurting me. It's not challenging enough to keep me sharp."

He glared at Zapata, "You had to punch my pregnant wife...in the _face_?"

"She told me to avoid her bump," Zapata defended. "And I did. She's hard enough to fight without restrictions. She's been kicking my ass all day."

"She really has," Patterson confirmed, pointing toward Zapata's bloody lip and a tear in her shirt. "Tasha has pretty much been a punching bag for the last hour," Patterson added, stopping when she saw Tasha's scowl.

"The next person to hit my wife is fired!" he ordered, knowing it wasn't true but he meant it just the same.

"Kurt!" Jane admonished.

"Do you have any idea what people think when they see us together?" Kurt questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"When you're cut up and bruised, and we walk in to the store or stop at a restaurant? Why do you think they're all glaring at me?"

"Since when do you care what people think?"

"Since they think I'm the kind of man who would hit his wife!" he yelled. "I am _not_ that kind of man."

"Oh, look at that," Patterson countered, holding up her phone. Glancing at Zapata, she added, "They need us out there…in the place."

"Got it," Zapata replied, grabbing her things and hurrying out of the room with Patterson.

Once they were alone, Jane argued with Kurt, "You're being ridiculous. I hope you know that."

"At this point in your pregnancy, as a father, there isn't much I can do to help. I'm pretty useless. You're the one who has to deal with everything. All I can do is protect you both," Kurt griped, leaning back against the wall and sighing in exasperation. "And you won't even let me do that."

"Would you stop," she said, her tone softening. "It's our job to protect each other. It has _always_ been our job to protect each other. That hasn't changed. You've always treated me like an equal in the field. Why stop now?"

"I just…" he sighed, "I have so much to lose. I'm so close to having everything…everything a man could want. And I'm so scared it's all going to slip through my fingers and go back to the way it was."

"That's why I'm still training every day…because I'm not going to let anyone hurt any of us either. I have to be ready. The baby doesn't change that. If anything, he just makes it more important."

Kurt frowned as she stood on her toes and gently kissed the corner of his mouth until the frown softened. "Don't worry about people thinking you're some abusive jackass. We know the truth. And so does everyone we care about."

"I'm not that kind of man. I never want to be seen as that type of man."

"I never would have married that type of man. Everyone who knows you knows what kind of man you really are. You're a good husband, Kurt. And you will be an incredible father."

"Thanks. I don't know about incredible, but hopefully I'll be slightly better than average," he answered, smiling subtly.

"Besides…," she started with a tone that was loving and slightly suggestive, "everyone knows you couldn't kick my ass if you tried. I'm way too tough."

"Is that so?" he cockily retorted.

"Yea," she answered, dragging her fingers just for a split second down the center line of her chest toward the vee in her collar, something that, for some reason, had always gotten his attention. He knew Jane was keenly aware of several ways to distract him. When his eyes dropped as they were supposed to, it was too late, and he felt her sweep his legs out from under him as he crashed onto his back, chuckling all the way to the floor.

She hopped on him, carefully resting her knee against his groin so she knew he couldn't easily flip her over without inflicting pain on himself. She'd figured out that move a while ago, too. "I surrender," he said, feigning fear and weakness as he watched her laugh. "Someday, people will figure out how mean you are to me."

He had his moves, too, and he'd spent plenty of time learning ways to distract her in turn. It was the little things that seemed to pique her interest. He just glanced down to her mouth and briefly gazed down her body, his tongue barely flicking over his lip. Her mouth opened slightly as her mind raced to other times and places and promises he'd made, and he could see her losing focus. He hadn't planned on those promises echoing back to him, though.

Her leg moved so she was straddling him on the floor of the gym, and she leaned down until she was propped on the mat on her elbows. He knew that look, that focused, undeniable determination she sometimes regarded him with, and he started to calculate just how inappropriate it would be for the two of them to share a very private moment in such a potentially un-private place.

People were talking loudly outside the door and Jane hopped up, standing over him and reaching down to help him up. As soon as he stood up, she quickly jabbed him a few times and knocked him back down on the floor. "Come on," she provoked, extending a hand to help him up again.

He fought back cautiously, jabbing her shoulders and acting like he had no intention of putting any effort into this battle. As soon as she seemed to give up, he swooped forward, dropping low and lifting her off her feet and carrying her over to the wall before devouring her mouth in a seething kiss that made them both acknowledge the dangers of playing games.

They could both hear the footsteps in the hallway and he put her down. "How fast can you get me home?' she asked lustily.

He swallowed hard, realizing his mouth was dry, "Not fast enough. Come on."

* * *

He took her hand and rushed out of the gym, down the hall and to the elevator. Jane felt like she was on fire, the hormones from her pregnancy and deep love for the man next to her making her feel all the more desperate for some time alone. When they stepped off the elevator, he dashed down the hall toward the evidence room. He quickly looked around once inside, making sure they were alone, and then he stooped down and fiddled with the lock for a moment.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"This lock is really stubborn," he noted. "If it's not opened or closed entirely, you really have to mess with it to get it open." Satisfied that he had the lock positioned, he stood up and smirked. "Perfect."

"Okay?" she asked, confused.

"I figure, if someone comes down and tries to get in, it's going to take at least a minute, probably more, to get that lock unjammed…that gives us a few extra seconds to take cover and make ourselves presentable."

Before she could even answer, he lifted her onto the table in the center of the room, tapping her hip to make her raise up so he could pull off her pants, placing them on the table under his hand so he could easily help her with them if someone happened to try to come in. The clasp on his belt clanked loudly against the table as she opened his pants and shoved them down just a few inches so they could meet each other unencumbered. "This is crazy," she said, a huge smile on her face.

He pushed into her, the two of them so finely in tune that sex between them had become an almost automatic expression, each knowing intuitively what their partner wanted and needed. As they began, she cried out, loudly, and he mumbled, "We have to keep it down," chuckling as she moaned so loudly in the following second that he was really worried they'd get caught. She hid her face against his neck, trying to muffle the noises that she couldn't seem to control well enough.

He'd been in that room thousands of times, but never imagined he'd be here with her like this, driving each other to climax yet again. She was still too much, and never enough, and he couldn't stop himself from whispering declarations of his love as he held onto her for dear life.

* * *

Rich was waiting when they returned to the main office, studying a definite flush in their skin and lips, the suspicious pink abrasions against her neck from what he assumed was a beard, the slightly guilty look on Jane's face, and the too purposeful 'I-wasn't-doing-anything' look on Weller's.

"Wrapping up some important top-secret government work?" Rich asked, looking over each subject with that innocent yet so devious look he often had.

"Why are you here? I didn't call you in," Weller responded, looking around for clues as to why Rich was there.

"I have a gift for the littlest Dweller."

"Hunh?" Jane asked, tilting her head.

"Baby Doe-Weller…Dweller…get it?" Rich replied.

"A gift?" Weller asked. "This can't possibly be good. Do I need to call in the bomb squad?"

"I'm offended," Rich feigned. "It is…a little education fund from me and Auntie Boston. It's not like the two of you are going to have the money to send the tiny ass-kicker to college on FBI paychecks."

"We can't accept dirty money," Kurt argued.

"It's not dirty. All above board. Not a thing to worry your scruffy little head about."

"What's the catch?" Jane asked.

"No catch. I feel a certain…responsibility. I can't just turn my back on that," Rich explained.

"Why?" Kurt asked, standing taller over Rich, blocking Jane from his view, and waiting for the punchline.

"I'm like a second father!" Rich said, trying to agitate Kurt.

"You are not in _any_ capacity, _any_ kind of father to our baby. Are we clear?" Kurt asked.

Speaking around Kurt, Rich said to Jane, "As the probable dominant male presence in your child's life, a role model, really, I thought you might let me help pick the name. What about 'Richard DotGov'? That way, you can pay respect to both of the important men in your life. 'Richard' for me…and I think we all know who the 'DotGov' is for," he said, nodding his head toward Kurt.

"I think we can pick out names on our own," Weller argued.

"Really," Rich continued, enjoying the fact that he could still annoy Kurt so effectively, "are you even sure which of us is _really_ the father? Instead of getting lost in the details, we can all share in the joys and responsibilities of fatherhood."

"We are completely, entirely, undoubtedly certain who the father is," Weller retorted, likely knowing that Rich was pushing buttons but reacting nonetheless.

"Jane…are we _really_ that certain?" Rich asked, struggling to look past Kurt's looming presence toward her.

"Yea, Rich," she dryly answered, "We are _really_ that certain. Since you and I have never slept together, I think you're off the hook."

"Too bad," Rich noted, "we would make really beautiful babies. Can you imagine?" Rich saw the way Kurt's eyes were growing wide and angry, his jaw tense as his irritation was rising. Trying to mediate the anger somewhat, Rich said, "Well, I suppose we could compromise…I could be 'Uncle Rich'…although I still think you should consider the name."

"Are you going to help with this or not?" Patterson yelled from the doorway of her lab.

"So in demand," Rich said, fanning himself like a lovely southern belle. He handed Weller an envelope and said, a sound of sincerity in his tone, "congratulations. I hear it's a boy."

Weller took the envelope, glancing over it for a second and then looking up as Rich walked into Patterson's lab. "How did you know it's a boy?" Kurt shouted. "We haven't told anyone."

"Can't talk right now. Busy, busy!" Rich waved as he disappeared.

Jane moved over to Kurt's side and she whispered, "He tries so hard to annoy you. I think you're the one he really likes."

"Fantastic," Kurt sarcastically replied, opening the envelope. He stared down at the amount and showed Jane, shaking his head.

She shrugged, and answered, "Why do I have the feeling that 'Uncle Rich' is going to have our son hacking foreign governments by the time he's two?"


	2. Chapter 2: Operation Sandbox

A/N-So I know it's been a little while since I've updated this story. Keep in mind this is the fluffy fic set in "the Only" universe. Thanks for your patience!

 **Chapter 2: Operation Sandbox**

Kurt was staring at her. She could feel his stare more intimately than she could feel the tank top that clung to her torso. "What?" she asked, trying to sound reproving. She still felt embarrassed by his admiration that hadn't faded as her tummy grew, but rather seemed to increase. After so much time together, she still felt a shyness under his gaze. She'd expected to one day get used to his approving and affectionate stare, but the intensity of it was something she'd had yet to adjust to, and that kept the fluttering feeling of new love alive between them even though they were hardly new to each other.

"You look good," he shrugged, brazenly looking over her body, his hands folded behind his head as he was propped up on the pillows in the center of the bed. "And you know I like to look. Take that off for me, woman!" he demanded. She knew he was teasing, but she scowled anyway at the demand until he rephrased, "Sorry. I meant ' _please_ take that off for me, woman."

She shook her head and soundlessly giggled, "Why?"

He shrugged, "Because I want to see you…and this miracle we created."

"Miracle? Are you referring to our child or the bigger breasts you can't seem to stop staring at?"

He smirked and flashed his brows, "Do I have to choose? Miracles are happening all over the place."

She couldn't seem to manage a truly disapproving look. "Come on," he encouraged, bracing his elbows behind him to lift his head and give him a better view. "Besides, you sleep better when you're naked…even you say that. I'm just looking out for your best interests."

Jane began peeling off her clothes, trying to take them off like she would if she were alone, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from trying to seduce him. "This is one of those weird _male_ things …isn't it?"

"What?" he chuckled. "What weird male things?"

"Face it…I look really strange, out of proportion. It looks like I swallowed a basketball. The tattoos on my belly are getting stretched and pulled out of shape… So if you like looking at me so much, you must like the fact that I'm showing because it proves something about you…about your virility."

"I've proven everything I have to prove to the only one who matters," he replied with that familiar arrogant confidence.

"Patterson?" Jane questioned, teasing.

"You," he confirmed. "Besides, I can't really take all the credit for the kid."

"Finally going to share credit with Rich?" she teased, enjoying the gruffled look on his face.

With sudden and thorough sincerity, he answered, "You. I'm sharing the credit with you. I think you look sexy, hot as hell, actually, but not because it proves anything about me. You and me…we're good together. Anything that results from the fact that I chose you, and you chose me…well, that's something worth appreciating."

"That's sweet," she admitted.

"And you don't look strange. You look…maternal and –"

"Geez thanks," she wryly interrupted.

"I'm serious. It's a little different, but no less sexy." Suddenly his attention was diverted and he shouted, "Oh my god."

"What?" she asked, preparing for ambush or something worse.

"I saw that," he replied, kneeling on the bed in front of her and tenderly touching her belly where he'd seen unexpected movement.

"You saw?" she asked. She was so excited. She'd felt the baby kicking for a while now, but every time she mentioned it to him, he either said he couldn't feel anything or pretended to feel something that he obviously didn't.

"Yea," he looked up at her, an expression of wonder unlike anything she'd ever seen from him before. "That was amazing."

Kurt picked her up, placing her carefully on the bed as if she were made of glass, and he put his hand back over her belly and waited. Jane was completely aware that she was falling in love with him yet again, and she wondered how many times it was possible to fall in love with the same person.

* * *

He watched her tummy jump against his hand and he pushed back, smiling subtly at the fact that such a small thing could be so astounding. He talked to their baby often, but this was the first real interaction they had, just pushing against each other. After some time, he felt himself get lost in his head.

Jane once again seemed to notice even the smallest changes in him, and said, "You seem…distracted by something today. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I'm here."

"I know," he said, covering her hand with his and rubbing his thumb across it a few times.

"You aren't having second thoughts about becoming a father, are you?"

"What?" he nearly gasped, feeling an incredible sadness that she would have even considered that possibility. "No. No way. No second thoughts. No regrets. I promise. You and this kid…you're everything I want. So don't even worry about that."

"Okay," she answered, seeming content enough for now, but obviously still aware that something was going on in his head.

"I was thinking—" he began, suddenly interrupted by the buzz of his phone. He rolled back, frustrated at the interruption, and looked at his phone. "Zapata's in trouble," he explained, hopping up and quickly dressing.

Jane followed suit, dressing as quickly as she could, knowing he would argue with her, she would argue back, and ultimately she was going to go along with him no matter what he thought about it.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "I don't know what's going on over there."

"All the more reason that I should go with you," she argued, casting a certain look that he was wise enough not to question.

* * *

Weller sped through the streets of the city, hurrying to Zapata's apartment as he spoke to Reade, who was planning to meet them there. They hopped out of their car and Kurt threw a vest at Jane. "At least put that on," he said, automatically grabbing one for himself before she could demand that he reciprocate.

She found her normal vest didn't fit around her belly even after she'd adjusted it, so she reached into the back of the SUV and took the larger size. The larger sized vest fit around her stomach, but was too big for her upper body and left gaps even when tightened. Kurt rushed over, helping her adjust it to offer as much protection as possible and then throwing the smaller vest over top of the larger one to cover her chest and shoulders. "This is overkill," she complained, finding it a bit difficult to move her arms.

"You want to go in with me? You want to be in the field? Then you have to be careful. These aren't made for—" he began, stopping when she scowled. "We'll customize something for you tomorrow," he promised. "For now we'll make this work."

Jane unholstered her gun and checked the clip. "Let's go."

Reade ran down the street, quickly joining them. They all hurried into Zapata's apartment building, hoping that their friend and teammate was okay inside. Weller nodded at Reade, who acted like he was about to knock down the door. Reade looked at Jane and then Weller and shrugged with a subtle smile, "Guess I should try the knob first."

Weller and Jane both stared with confusion as Reade reached forward and turned the doorknob, pushing it open and heading inside first and blocking the entrance. As they peered inside, they heard, "Surprise!" from the small gathering of people within.

Once Reade knew they weren't going to shoot the guests, he stepped out of the way and added, "It was definitely a surprise, so don't try to pretend you had it all figured out."

It took them a few seconds to understand what was happening, and finally Tasha asked, "You going to stand in the hall all night or are you going to come to your baby shower?"

They walked inside, and Patterson approached with bright blue drinks in festive cups, saying, "Do you know how hard it is to plan a surprise party for the two of you? You guys notice _everything_."

Once they realized there was no threat, Kurt helped Jane extricate herself from the layered vests and they settled in to enjoy the party. The amount of work that went into planning the party did not go unnoticed by its guests of honor. Weller was bragging about the physical prowess he'd noted when feeling their baby kick, and Patterson scooted next to Jane. "If he kicks again, if you don't mind, can I feel?"

"Sure," Jane answered, smiling a bit shyly.

Zapata sat next to Kurt, and when Patterson looked at her, Tasha said, "Don't look at me. I'm not the maternal type."

After just a few minutes, Jane felt the baby kick, and guided Patterson's hand to the right spot.

Patterson's eyes lit up with surprise and excitement as she said, "Oh that's amazing. You can really feel him. You guys get him fetal Tae Kwon Do or something? Does it feel weird?" Patterson asked with wonder. "It's gotta feel weird…something moving like that."

"A little," Jane admitted. "I'm starting to get used to him being with me all of the time, so it will probably be strange after he's born, too."

Tasha watched, noting Patterson's excitement and awe. Taking a long sip of her beer, Tasha said, "What the hell. Let me see what the little ass kicker can do." She sat on the other side of Jane and challenged, "Come on, kid. Show me what you've got."

Zapata couldn't help but smile and feel some surprise at the force she felt against her hand. Weller watched his wife, looking both happy and excited, and he liked that for once, other people's eyes were on her, but they weren't looking for clues or studying tattoos, they were sharing a moment of joy and celebration.

"I definitely got the right present," Patterson said, jumping up and hurrying to retrieve her package. "Open it," she ordered, placing it on the coffee table between Kurt and Jane.

"It's not present time yet," Zapata jokingly argued.

"It is now," Patterson answered, looking more excited at the thought of giving her gift then the recipients were to receive it.

They opened it and saw a musical keyboard designed to be put near a baby's feet. It would play notes when kicked. "I rigged this up a bit," Patterson added. "See, there's a tablet attached." She started showing them what she'd done, programming the kickable keyboard to do something that neither Jane nor Kurt really understood. "Essentially we'll start to teach him some very basic computer and programming skills as soon as he can kick the keyboard. Plus, it's going to be really, really fun…there's music and colors."

Zapata and Reade hooked up surveillance equipment to be used as the world's most high tech baby monitor and gave that as part of their gift. "All completely secure," Zapata assured.

"You won't have to worry about people hacking in and spying on junior," Reade assured.

They also gave the couple a baby floor gym with toys that hung down from above. Zapata explained, "With you two as parents, that kid's gonna be running 'Operation Sandbox', kicking ass all over preschool."

Sarah, Kurt's sister, sat next to Reade and said, "Do you think their son will be the _beast child_ on the peewee football team with facial hair who's running around tackling everybody?"

Reade chuckled at the reference and said, "He'll probably be the kid even the beast child is scared of. Little Weller the Hellraiser, with his daddy's beard and tattoos like mom. Even the refs'll be scared of him."

"If he's anything like my brother, they'll get lots of calls from school about fights, and they shouldn't even think about getting carpet. Kurt was always dragging mud and worms and all kinds of disgusting stuff into the house. Made mom nuts."

"If they start taking him to the range once he can walk, he'll be a certified shot by kindergarten," Reade teased.

Sarah laughed, "I forgot how funny you are."

"What are you two talking about?" Kurt asked as he approached after grabbing another beer.

"What a menace your son is going to be," Reade answered.

"And how you used to make mom crazy, dragging in bugs and dirt and worms."

"With any luck, he'll take after his mother," Kurt suggested.

"Speaking of moms…have you talked to ours?" Sarah asked, unexpectedly.

Reade stood and quickly mentioned the need to refill his drink.

Weller shook his head, limiting the answer to his sister's question to a wordless gesture. She took his arm and led him to Zapata's tiny outdoor space. "Mom should know she has a daughter-in-law, and soon another grandson. I haven't told her, but I think you should."

"She didn't ask," Kurt answered tersely.

"She asked for your number. I can give it to her."

"Why?" he asked, crossing his arms. "She walked out on us. Left us with _him._ I forgot about her a long time ago."

"It was a rough situation for all of us. I talk to her occasionally, more since Dad died, and—"

"I don't feel like getting into this right now," Kurt argued.

Jane joined him outside, noticing the angry look on his face, and asked, "Everything okay?"

"We're fine," he immediately answered.

"I was just asking if Kurt told our mom about you and the baby," Sarah said.

"Oh," Jane awkwardly replied, looking at him. Of the thousands of things they'd discussed, they'd never really talked about his mother aside from the fact that she'd left in the wake of Taylor's disappearance and the subsequent divorce.

"Let's go back in and enjoy the party," he replied, taking Jane's arm.

"Kurt," Sarah said, "It's just that family…"

"I have my family," he retorted. "I have Jane, and you. Sawyer and soon my son. Even my team…they're more family than she is. You're my little sister. No matter where you live or how far apart we are. But that woman…she means nothing to me."

* * *

The party went on for hours and, for the most part, everyone seemed to have a wonderful time. It was nearly 3am when everyone started leaving. Sawyer was sleeping, curled on the sofa next to Jane, and she was playing with the unruly pile of hair on top of his head.

Feigning jealousy, Kurt pointed at his nephew and said, "I'm so tired of that kid always moving in on my woman. I turn my back for one minute…"

Jane smiled at him, her eyes heavy with sleepiness, "He's so sweet."

"I offered to carry him down to Sarah's car. Mind if I take him?"

She nodded, and Kurt bent, bracing his hand on the back of the sofa and sneaking an opportunistic kiss from Jane before he picked up Sawyer. Sarah wished Jane goodbye and promised to return after the baby was born. Jane stretched, looking around and seeing their friends cleaning up the remnants of the party and packing their gifts to take them down to the car. "Thanks, guys," she said to the team. "This was really sweet of you."

Patterson grinned, hugging her friend, "We're all just so happy for you both. And your baby, he can come to our parties, bring his own bottle…you know I have a blender, so I could probably puree the pizza—"

Zapata, Reade and Jane all cast a slightly disgusted look at the thought of pureed pizza.

"Well…we'll figure something out," Patterson added.

"I wouldn't recommend letting Aunt Patterson babysit on her own," Reade mentioned. "She clearly requires supervision."

"I don't have much experience with kids," Zapata said initially, adding, "but they have books on that stuff. I should be able to figure it out."

"We're so lucky to have you guys," Jane said, her eyes a little teary although the team wasn't sure if it was because she was tired or moved.

Kurt returned from outside. "You going to carry me down next?" Jane joked.

He quickly swept her up, smiling at her while she seemed surprised by his immediate response. "No problem," he replied.

"Put me down," she ordered, gently smacking his shoulder.

"Come on," he whispered, "it's time for me to get you home."

* * *

Reade followed them home and helped them carry in all of their things. By the time they had everything stacked in the apartment and Reade had gone home, they realized the sun would be up in an hour or so. "We have really good friends," Jane said as she looked over the room, her hand on her stomach, thumb gently rubbing as if she could actually touch their child.

"We do," Kurt nodded.

"We also have so much stuff to put away."

"Yea," he agreed, "but it can all wait until after we sleep. Unless you're planning on having the kid tonight?"

She looked up, acting as though she had a choice in the matter and was putting careful thought into it, "Not tonight. I think he should stay put for a couple of months yet."

Her husband picked her up again, this time without her resistance, and carried her back to their room. They helped each other undress, for no reason except they could.

Once they were ready to sleep, they curled up in a warm pile in the center of the bed, skin against skin, chests expanding and falling with deep synchronous breaths.


	3. Chapter 3: Lorraine

**A/N-Thanks to everyone who shares in the joy of this fandom, and for all of you out there who encourage fic writers to keep on fic'ing. Remember—This is in the "The Only" AU, which is really, really AU after Season 2.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Lorraine**

Jane came home after running a few errands. She and Kurt had had a short standoff before she'd left. He wanted to go with her, she wanted to prove that she could still go out on her own, and she could tell that, although it nearly killed him to let go, he knew when it was time to back down and give her some space.

As she was walking home, she felt a somewhat insistent hunger, and then remembered the bars he'd put in her pocket in case she got hungry. At first, she wasn't going to eat them, feeling in a way like to do so would be admitting defeat. Then she shrugged, grabbing the bar and peeling the wrapper open, eyes rolling gratefully at the delicious taste of her favorite flavored one. He'd given her space, so she should be willing to accept his help when it was actually helpful.

When she got home, he was sitting at the island in the kitchen, staring down at a book with concentration that made it appear that he was trying to intimidate the words on the page. "Whatcha reading?" Jane cheerfully asked.

"Baby book," he mumbled without looking up. Once he finished the page, he slid a scrap of paper into the book to mark his place.

"It can be a lot to take in," she empathized.

"Yea."

"I mean…baby books. That's _heavy_ reading," she teased. "I mean there's 'A is for apple'…'B is for ball'…'C is—"

"For cookie!" he quickly sung back in an odd, gravelly voice, "It's good enough for me."

"What?" she asked, wrinkling her face.

"Cookie Monster…you don't know Cookie Monster?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Oh man…I'll show you this weekend. And I didn't miss that little smartass comment a few minutes ago. I wasn't reading a book written for babies…I was reading a book about caring for them."

"How's that going?"

"When Sarah was little, I remember my mom putting her to sleep on her belly so she wouldn't choke if she spit up. But in here," he opened the book to the right page, "here it says they have to be on their backs. Which one is it? And none of those crib pads around the bed, but what if he rams his head into the side of the crib and gets a concussion?"

"You think an infant is going to be ramming his head into the side of a crib that hard? How mobile do you think he's going to be those first few months?"

"My boy?" Weller said, proudly considering, "he'll be crawling after 2 weeks, walking after a month, and bashing his head into things pretty much right away."

She smiled sweetly. "I'll read this book when you're done. And we can always ask Sarah or the pediatrician or look it up online if we have questions."

"Not online!" he argued. "I was on there about the crib thing…so many opinions, and everyone thinks the parents who disagree are pretty much terrorists. I'm not getting back on that forum again."

Jane chuckled, "If you can't walk in with your badge and gun…"

"I think they could use a little law enforcement!" he insisted.

"It's really sweet that you're learning about this stuff. Is this…why you've been so quiet the last few days?"

"No. I mean…yea. But no."

Jane waited, firming her lips into a stiff line.

"Alright," he replied, hesitantly. "You know…how I said I had stuff to do tomorrow?"

"Yea," she responded, patiently.

"It's Taylor's memorial. I thought maybe I'd go. Then stop to take some flowers to Emma's grave. I don't think anyone else will."

"I'm glad. I think you should go."

"You don't mind?"

"Why would I mind?" Jane asked quizzically.

"It will take most of the day, with the drive. I wasn't sure if that would be weird for you since…hell I dunno," he shook his head.

She looped her arms around him where he sat, standing behind him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "I think you should go. But I'm glad you told me."

"Would you…want to come along?" he asked, peering over his shoulder.

"It's okay if you want to go alone. I understand."

Back when they'd visited Jane's, or rather _Alice's_ , childhood home in Johannesburg, and later the site where her orphanage had been, she'd mentioned that one day, perhaps, Kurt would take her to see the place where he'd grown up. He never had, and there seemed to be an imbalance, as if Jane had been ready and able to open her life and all its horrors to him, but he was still holding back a little piece.

"Actually, I meant I _want_ you to come with me. Unless you really don't want to."

"Really?" she asked, her smile confirming her joy at the invitation.

"Yea. Definitely. Maybe we could stay a night nearby…I could show you around."

"Kurt," she said, approaching teariness, "I'd love that."

* * *

Once they left the city and started zipping over the highways of northern Pennsylvania, the bright green trees lining their path were initially a pleasant change from the concrete-filled streets of New York. After about two hours, Jane was certain that if she had to look at one more tree flying by her window, she was going to get sick. They spoke, at times, about plans, about nursery decorations, names and clothes, about paperwork she'd forgotten to complete at the office, about the things he needed to remember to pick up the next time he ran errands. It was all terribly normal. And enjoyable. Occasionally they held hands, or he'd rest his palm on her knee. There were no gunshots, no blood or death, no puzzles.

When they stopped for gas, Jane noticed a few people staring at her tattoos. It was funny, because sometimes she forgot she had them. A few people looked with admiration or interest. One particularly crotchety man scowled at her, noting her belly, and muttering under his breath that some people should have the sense not to have children. If he thought he was hurting her feelings, he was wrong. After the life she'd led, one person's close-minded criticism wasn't worthy of her attention.

Kurt came in and joined her, grabbing a coffee and a donut and a few things for her to snack on since he seemed to consider himself her own personal vending machine. She didn't even bother arguing with his over-preparedness anymore.

* * *

Once they arrived at the memorial, Kurt noticed everyone staring intently at them. He wondered if they knew that the beautiful, petite, expectant mother on his arm who was supportive and warm and gentle was one of the deadliest weapons he'd ever met. She certainly didn't look dangerous that day, standing next to him, her body lit by the streaks of sun that poked through the clouds. The memorial service itself was short, fewer people showing each year as lives became busier, people died or moved away, and the memory of a missing girl over 20 years ago faded in most minds.

As much as he hated his father for being such a horrible monster, Kurt was thankful to know that Taylor wasn't just lost out there in the unknown. He tried to keep an image of Taylor and Emma, together in some ethereal plane. They had loved each other so much, in the purest, most devoted way. He hoped to hell they were together again, somehow, somewhere.

A friend who had grown up down the street came up to Kurt, busily yapping about his life as Kurt struggled to remember the guy's name. _Matt,_ Kurt finally remembered, realizing that he'd missed most of what the guy had been saying.

Now that he remembered the name, Kurt was going to introduce Jane when he heard her talking to someone else. It was the name that stunned him. "Lorraine," the haunting voice said, "and you are?"

Kurt turned and felt the numb shock of a true surprise. "Jane," his wife replied, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Hi, Kurt," the woman said, and he simply shook his head, shocked that his eyes were falling on this person again.

He wrapped his arm around Jane, holding on like she needed protection even though he knew the woman couldn't physically hurt Jane. She looked at him, waiting for an explanation for his very obvious tension and notable silence. "This is my mother," he said, quietly, looking around, feeling exposed and uncomfortable.

"Oh," Jane said, suddenly looking almost as shocked as he was.

"So you and my son are…" Lorraine began, waiting for Jane to complete the thought.

"Married," Jane supplied.

"What exactly do you want?" he asked, sounding extra protective, standing partially in front of Jane to keep his mother at a distance.

"To see my son," the woman plainly answered.

" _You_ ran away from _us_. I haven't seen or heard from you in years, so what exactly is it you want from me?"

"I didn't run from you, Kurt. Your father…I just couldn't—"

"You couldn't what?" he angrily asked. "You couldn't stand to be around him, to take his anger, and his drinking, and the knowledge of what he'd done. So you left, you took care of _yourself_ , protected _yourself_. And you left me and Sarah there to defend ourselves."

"You were so angry. Just like him—"

"I am not my father," Kurt said, so quietly, yet so forcefully that the words seemed to hurt Lorraine. "I am nothing like him. I could never do what he did. So don't compare us. Don't show up back in my life to tell me that I'm like the man you ran away from."

Jane reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his comfortingly.

He breathed out slowly, calming slightly, and added, "Even if you thought I was that horrible, if you hated me, you could have taken Sarah. Gotten her as far away from him as possible. But you didn't. You let your own daughter there, with him."

"I wish I could change it all, son. I wish I could."

"You can't," he calmly replied. "No matter what you do, or say, or what explanation you give, it doesn't change a thing."

"I'm so glad I got to meet you, Jane," Lorraine said, changing the conversation. "And I hope one day I'll get to meet my grandchild. Kurt," she began, "Don't let your anger get the better of you. You were a sweet boy, before everything happened—"

Jane had had enough. This woman who purported to know Kurt Weller clearly had no idea. "I've known Kurt since I was 18," Jane said, remembering their days with Orion from their recovered memories as a vision of a more youthful Kurt came to her mind. "I served under him and with him. I've watched him risk his own life for his team, for me, over and over again. He's not ruled by anger. He has a code, wants to truly do what's right. He's the kindest, most considerate, loving man I've ever known. I can't imagine my life without him. You don't know him, what he's done and who he's become. If you really want a chance to be in his life…you have to accept that he is not his father or his mother…he's his own person. He looks out for me, and Sarah and Sawyer, and he'd gladly give his life to protect us."

"Well," Lorraine said, clearing her throat, "Then I apologize. I'd like a chance, Kurt…to get to know you and this lovely woman. And my grandchild. Don't answer now," she held her hand up before he could speak. Holding a piece of paper out, she said, "This is my address and phone number. Think about it. At least maybe consider sending some pictures."

When he didn't take the paper, Lorraine handed it to Jane. The older woman began to walk away, but turned back. "I know I hurt you, son. Hurting you and your sister…well, that was never my intention. We were all happy once. I miss those days."

* * *

Kurt was quiet during the ride after they left. Jane knew him well enough by now to trust that he'd talk to her when he was ready, and trying to get him to talk before he was ready was an exercise in futility. Her heart ached for him and the pain she suspected he was feeling. He still mourned little Taylor, and she felt honored that he'd opened up enough to bring her along to the memorial. His mother was, oddly enough, something they almost never discussed, but the surprise visit was clearly unwelcomed in his book.

They only drove for about a half hour before he pulled into a campground. "We don't have to stay if you don't want to," Jane offered.

"You want to go home?" he asked somberly.

"No. Not necessarily. I just…I'm happy to stay, but if you want to go, that's okay, too."

He grunted a near response that didn't really tell her anything, and he pulled up to an office to check in. Jane grabbed his hand and asked, "Is there something I can do?"

"I'm fine, Jane," he tersely responded, and the sound of his tone seemed to give him pause. "Thank you...for coming with me. It's still difficult, when I think about what happened to her. But having you there…it meant something to me."

"It meant something to me that you wanted me there. I'm sorry that your mom showed up. I didn't know who she was when she started talking to me—"

"I know. How could you have known?" he pulled his hand away, then seemed to feel guilty for it, so he leaned over the console and kissed her cheek. "I'll be right back."

* * *

The sun had just fully set as they looped through the narrow gravel streets of the campground until he found the right road. A few cabins were somewhat evenly spaced, most with flickering bright orange fires outside. When she got out of the car, she could see the gentle sway of moonlight on the lake, and thought about what a beautiful sunrise it would be, if they managed to get up that early.

By the time she turned her focus back on Kurt, he'd grabbed all of their things and was climbing the pair of wooden steps that led to the front porch. After he dropped their things on the table inside, he lit a small lantern that cast enough illumination to make out the décor. A bed, smaller than theirs at home, was in the near corner. The posts were made of natural wood, still in the shape of the trunks they'd been taken from. All of the furniture was like that, minimally cut and roughhewn. She noted a light switch and two bare electric bulbs hanging from the ceiling, but since he'd purposefully ignored them, she guessed he didn't want them on.

He unzipped two sleeping bags and spread them over the bed, probably worried about it being uncomfortable for her, but she couldn't think of anywhere more cozy and inviting than this cabin at that moment. "Have you been here before?" she asked, wondering if this was one of the places he'd visited as a child.

"Nah. Not here," he answered with soft gruffness. "But these cabins are pretty much all the same no matter where you go."

A few seconds later, he was out the back door, pulling a fire ring to the center of the stone patio so they could sit outside and look at the water. Once the fire was built, he stood looking over it, staring at the water, somehow stiller than the trees. She knew him well enough to know he didn't want to talk yet, so she enjoyed the scenery, realizing after several minutes that she was absently patting her tummy as she felt their child push and shove until he seemed to get comfortable.

"If you end up hating me some day," Kurt suddenly said, his voice sounding loud after the long silence that had only been paired with the sound of crackling branches, "just promise me you'll stick by the kid."

"Woah," she said involuntarily. "Umm…first, what are you talking about? I won't hate you. Not ever—"

"You don't know that," he replied with eerie calm. "I might turn out to be a total bastard in a few years. You might get sick of my job, or the way it takes me a while to tell you how I feel…if I can even figure it out myself. Being with me isn't a walk in the park."

"Being with me isn't a walk in the park either. We have a lot of baggage, both of us. I knew that when I married you. Both times," she said, noticing that it took her a little extra effort to get up out of the chair before she went to his side. "I will _never_ hate you. We will work through whatever we have to work through. Just don't shut me out."

"I don't want to, but I know how I am—"

"Are you sure about that?" she chuckled softly. "You're talking to me right now, telling me how you feel. I'm patient, Kurt. And when you need time to figure out stuff, that's okay. I know, when you're ready, you'll let me in."

He turned toward her, half of his face lit by the moon and half by the fire. His expression wasn't angry, happy, or sad; he was studying her. She felt like he was considering all things for quite a while before he nodded, "I still want you to promise me, that if everything goes wrong…if I turn into a horrible man—"

"You won't!"

"I can't let this go, Jane. I need to know…if something happens, that you'll be there for him…no matter what happens with us."

Jane smiled sadly. This was part of what she'd always loved about him. He was fiercely protective, a family man to the core, and he was more concerned for his wife and child's happiness than his own. She stepped closer, putting her hand on his forearm as she nodded, looking right in his eyes. "If things go wrong, if the impossible happens…I promise you I will be there for him."

"Thank you."

"But that won't happen," she willfully added.

He smiled for a second before it faded and he flopped heavily on the chair, like he'd been standing with the weight of it all on his shoulders all day. "I want better for him," Kurt confessed. "I don't want him to end up like me. My mom ran off, my dad was an asshole, and look how I turned out."

"That's funny," she said, moving his hands to the arms of his chair so she could sit sideways across his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms loosely around him.

"What's funny?" he asked, relaxing as he held her.

"Well, I hope he doesn't have as much pain and heartache as you. I hope he doesn't experience so much loss and death."

"You think that's funny?" Kurt teased a bit.

She grabbed his chin so she had his focus and said, "I hope his life is easier and happier…but I can't think of anything that would make me happier, or prouder, than if he grew up to be just like his father."

Kurt laughed loudly, seemingly certain that she'd been joking.

Jane, somewhat irritated, said, "You're the most loyal, trustworthy, devoted person I've ever met. You listen to me when I speak…to every single word…like it matters to you. You are considerate and loving, and in spite of your best efforts to prove otherwise, you have the biggest, most compassionate heart, once you let someone in. It makes sense that you have to protect it. You've been hurt…so many times. But I wouldn't change you…not even if I could."

His eyes lowered as he considered her words, then he finally whispered, "Thanks."

They watched the fire and the water, swatting away any mosquitoes who came looking for a meal. Kurt's hand eventually covered hers on her belly, and their fingers automatically threaded. When they felt that now familiar kicking that made them wonder if the baby was growing impatient with his incarceration, Kurt said, "He's ready to get outta there."

"He's going to have to be patient just a little while longer," she insisted.

"I don't blame him for being in a hurry. After all, he's the luckiest kid, to have you for a mom."

"He'll have both of us," she said as she pulled his arms around her more tightly, fighting a shiver and sleepiness as she nestled in and rested against him.


	4. Chapter 4: Unexpected

**Chapter 4: Unexpected**

Jane had never anticipated just how tired pregnancy would make her, but she was more exhausted than she ever had been from chasing criminals. As she and Kurt sat outside of the cabin next to a still smoldering campfire, she napped.

When she woke, she was still across his lap. His head was leaning against hers, his lips pressed to the top her head. She could tell he was awake because his thumb would occasionally stroke her arm where his hand held her tight. "Oh god," she said as she woke more fully.

"What?" he asked.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Not long… a few days," he teased, chuckling as she smacked his chest in retaliation.

She sat up, attempting a pouty face that melted when he rubbed her back, easing the ache that never seemed to fade in the last few days.

"About an hour," he finally confessed after she rested her head on his shoulder again.

"Sorry."

"Why?"

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you…at least not for that long."

"Growing a tiny super-human is a lot of work."

"It is," she smiled sleepily.

The second trimester had been more fun. She had had a sudden explosion of abundant energy, a supercharged libido, and seemed to be even sharper than normal. The third trimester was more tiring, especially after her fitness routine and long days at work. She also had to pee almost twice as often, and waking at night to do so interrupted her sleep even more.

She looked down at her belly and said, "Try something new. Could you maybe tap-dance on my ribs for a while? Or even my spine?"

Weller smiled as he knew why she was griping at their child. She stood up and stretched. "Bathroom is right down that path," he pointed.

When she followed the path, she realized he'd selected the cabin closest to the bathrooms. The path was lit, but poorly, and that made the rest of her senses perk up automatically. She knew Kurt was following her, although he didn't make a sound. She could feel him. When she came out of the bathroom, she walked a few steps and then said, "Come out here and walk with me instead of stalking from the shadows."

He stepped reluctantly into the light. "No… I just…I figured," he winced. "I don't know what I figured. I wasn't stalking you. I was just seeing if you are okay."

"That sounds exactly like what a stalker would say," she gently teased.

He dropped his gaze in a slightly defeated way, and she decided not to complain about his overprotectiveness. After all, the day had been a reminder of so many of the losses he'd experienced, and if it made him feel better to keep an eye on her tonight, she was going to allow it.

Instead of complaining, she held out her arm and wiggled her fingers. "Quit lurking and take a walk with me."

As they walked, the conversation turned to names. Choosing a name had been a much more complicated task than either had expected. "We have to remember, he's stuck with this name forever," Jane said.

"That's exactly my point," Kurt responded. "Which is why I prefer something less weird and artsy."

"Weird and artsy?" she huffed. "So what…something more masculine? Butch Superman? Or is that still too subtle for you?"

"It's not a matter of sounding masculine. I prefer something a little more traditional. Not Picasso Rainforest or whatever you wanted," he teased.

"I did not suggest either of those names," she countered. "And, you know…our son may be an artist. I'm an artist. And I'm still perfectly capable of kicking ass."

"Why do I feel like this is a very dangerous slope I'm standing on the edge of?"

"He might be a yogi, or a painter. An MMA fighter. A butcher. A doctor. An FBI Agent…we don't know."

"I'm fine with any of those things," Kurt defended. "I just want a name that's an actual name. Something that wasn't made up within the last ten years…something that existed when I was born."

"Way back then? Well that really limits our options. Clarence? Harold? Geezer…Geezer Weller…that has a nice ring to it."

"Har har," he wryly answered.

Her voice growing more serious, she said, "What about Taylor? That's gender neutral. Or something similar…Tyler?"

"I don't want to do that," Kurt shook his head.

"I thought you might like to as a mem—"

"I don't. I don't want him to have those shadows hanging over him. You're right…he might be an artist or a fighter or a healer…hell, I don't know. But this life is his, and only his. And no matter what he becomes, he's going to be the absolute best at it. I can tell."

Jane smiled and nodded. "So you don't want to name him _Kurt 2.0_?"

He boasted, "Nah. Too much to live up to. I don't want to put all of that pressure on him right out of the gate. We'll let him be his own man."

"It's just a name, why is this so hard?"

* * *

They had such a pleasant night, walking beneath the moonlight, curling up together in their cozy cabin. It was a reprieve that both had truly needed. In the morning, Jane woke, and couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. "What?" he asked for the fifteenth time that day.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head as she patted her tummy. "I just…something isn't right."

He pulled her into a hug. They'd had this conversation before many times. "After what Shepherd did to you—to us the last time, it's perfectly reasonable to be scared. But she's gone. And she cannot hurt our son. He's fine. You've protected him and kept him safe all these weeks. It's just a matter of waiting for him now." Kurt was so reassuring and calm, like he always was every time she worried about this.

"I'm being crazy, right?" she said aloud, hoping to make it true.

"You're not crazy. You're worried. Just like I worried about you last night. We've been through so much. But we're going to be just fine. And so is he."

Jane seemed to be appeased for a while, but as they drove back, the weight of worry was still heavy upon her. "I'm sorry," she apologized preemptively. "I just…something isn't right."

"You in pain or bleeding or something?" he asked, worriedly looking back and forth between her and the road.

"No. He just…feels different."

"There's a hospital at the next exit," he said.

"You don't have to humor me."

"I'm not. I trust your instincts."

"I'll just call my OB and see what she says. We'll be home soon. I trust her."

"You sure you want to wait?" he asked, pointing at the sign for a hospital. "I don't mind."

"I'm sure I'm just worrying about nothing." Jane poked at her stomach, waiting for the kick or push back that never seemed to come.

* * *

Jane's doctor met them at her office. Dr. Lawrence was an older woman, sweet and patient, who'd obviously delivered plenty of babies over the years. "It's normal to worry," the doctor reassured. "But we'll do a quick ultrasound to put your mind at ease."

Kurt and Jane had discussed their past with the doctor, wanting to work with just one person instead of a group of doctors in the final weeks of the pregnancy. They were so relieved when they'd found someone who made Jane feel comfortable.

Dr. Lawrence didn't look reassured when she listened for the heartbeat, though. She prepped the ultrasound machine and turned the monitor away from the couple. "What is it?" Jane asked, nervously. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

Dr. Lawrence smiled and said, "I have exciting news. You're going to have this baby tonight."

"I can't!" Jane yelled. "We're not ready. We have a few weeks yet."

"You are ready," Lawrence replied. "And one of the first lessons all new parents learn…is that children are very unpredictable." She called for an ambulance to transport them to the hospital.

"What the hell's going on?" Kurt asked after the doctor hung up, nearly grabbing for his gun to force some answers out of her before he restrained himself.

"Your son appears to be in distress."

"Why?" Jane asked. "What happened?"

"The best thing for him right now is for you to stay calm," the doctor assured. "But we need to do a C-section as soon as possible. It appears that there may be a blockage in the umbilical cord, perhaps a knot. I'm not quite sure. These blockages range in severity, from very mild to severe… But he's not getting enough of the nutrients and oxygen he needs. We could induce labor, but that can take time. The best thing to do, in my opinion, is get him out as soon as we can. I'll let the two of you decide."

Kurt and Jane looked at each other for a moment, and both nodded. "Let's go," Kurt answered.

The ambulance ride was a blur. Kurt held Jane's hand, and she kept a vice grip on him to make sure he stayed by her side. When he'd sat at the cabin by the fire the night before, he'd had no idea it might be their last night alone before their son would be born. He closed his eyes and silently hoped that they'd have a hundred sleepless nights in the weeks to come. The alternative terrified him. He felt sick, could hear his heart pounding in his head. He vowed that he'd never complain about a sleepless night if he and Jane could just have this child, a healthy kid to take home. If something happened to this baby…he didn't even want to think about that scenario.

In the hospital, they prepped, wasting no time. Kurt was pushed into a room to dress in scrubs before he hurried to Jane's side. He kept kissing her fingers through the surgical mask he was forced to wear. They were told that at 35 ½ weeks, their child's lungs were fully formed. But no one could promise them a healthy baby at the end of the day. The sheer speed with which everything happened made it all the more frightening.

He looked into his wife's eyes and said, "I can't wait to meet our son."

"Me too," she said, but the terror in her expression was obvious.

There was nothing either of them could do but wait. Neither of them could threaten their way out of this situation, or negotiate or fight. At the moment when it felt like their whole future was on the line, they were powerless. They tried not to think of the night Shepherd had ended their first pregnancy so many years ago, but with Jane strapped to a table, it was hard not to draw parallels. They'd never really considered the thought that a C-section might be necessary. Jane was healthy, the pregnancy was uncomplicated, and everything had seemed to be going fine.

There was a sudden flurry of activity, and then the tiniest, most pathetic scream they'd ever heard. The tears that followed were from sheer relief. "He's okay?" Jane yelled past the curtain, trying to move but finding that her body wouldn't respond.

"Stay still, dear," the doctor said, circling the table and carefully placing the wrapped infant in Jane's arms. The doctor said, "You can hold him for a minute. Then we need to do his assessments and clean him up. After that, I promise you can have him back."

"You can't take him," Jane said, staring down into unfocused squinty eyes before looking back at her husband. She wanted Kurt to take the child and run.

"We're just going to assess him," Dr. Lawrence promised. "We need to know if he needs our help. I will do it personally. I will not let anything happen to him."

"You want to hold him before they take him?" Jane offered Kurt, already looking pained at the thought of letting go.

Kurt moved to the top of the table and sat behind her, wrapping his arms around hers so they were both holding the child. "You hang onto him," he replied, knowing and not caring in the least that he was crying with absolute joy, and fear, and a new type of love that made him feel all at once invincible and powerless. It was a very strange feeling.

"Okay," the doctor said to Jane, "just give us a few minutes. They're going to finish stitching you up."

Jane looked at Kurt, refusing to hand their son to anyone else, and she said, "Promise me you won't leave his side. You won't let him out of your sight."

"I promise," he said, nodding emphatically.

Kurt followed, feeling torn already within the first few moments of fatherhood. He still felt he need to be there with Jane, to guard her, and yet his child needed him, too, and he'd promised Jane not to let the child out of his sight. Good to his word, he trained his eyes on their son, arms crossed as he watched everything that happened.

After several minutes, they determined that the baby was well enough to be reunited with his parents. With the baby in a tall, mobile hospital bassinet, Kurt wheeled him to the room where they would be staying for a few days.

Jane was brought in a few moments later, and she was asleep. "What's wrong with her?" he demanded. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. I think," the transporter awkwardly answered.

The doctor hurried in a second later, "We gave her something for pain and to calm her down. It will wear off shortly, but she'll be groggy. We'll get her up and walking around soon enough, but for now, she needs to take it easy."

The doctor gave him instructions, and Kurt wondered how in the hell he was going to be able to be a good dad when it was already so complicated.

* * *

Jane felt like she was climbing through the fog. Her mind struggled to grasp for information about her surroundings and what had happened, anything to explain her confusion. For a second, she worried that she'd lost her memory again, but then realized if she remembered losing her memory before, clearly she didn't have amnesia now.

She tried to sit up and felt the pain from her surgery, groaning as she heard Kurt say, "Everything's okay, Jane. Relax."

She opened her eyes, and he was right next to her. Kurt was on a reclining chair pushed up against her bed. His shirt was open so the baby could be right against his skin, as the doctor recommended. There were blankets over the boy that seemed impossibly big compared to his size. "He's just fine," Kurt promised. "You want to hold him?"

She shook her head, absolutely enamored by the sight before her eyes. Everyone had always joked about how their child would be the toughest, most fearsome baby ever born. Instead, he was even smaller than most babies, helpless, curled up and sleeping peacefully on his father's chest. Kurt stood and moved closer carefully, as if the baby might shatter if moved too abruptly. Kurt gently eased down on the edge of the bed before leaning back next to her. "He really is fine. I promise."

"He's so small."

"Five pounds, 2 ounces," Kurt told her. "And absolutely perfect."

"What caused the blockage?" she asked. "Did I…did I do something to—"

"It's just something that happens," Kurt explained. "You didn't do anything wrong. The fact that you noticed his sluggishness…well, let's just say things turned out better because you trusted your instincts. You're already a great mom." He carefully ran his finger over his son's impossibly tiny hands, and chuckled when the baby stretched his fingers in a quick jerky movement. "You did great," he complimented, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "I mean…look at him."

Kurt looked like a giant there, holding the baby, his large hand like a blanket over his son's back. The look on the new father's face could only be described as one of happiness, confusion, and awe. He'd never looked as powerful or handsome in her eyes as he did holding their child.

Kurt tapped the baby's nose and said, "Hey sleepy head. Say hi to your mom." He turned to Jane and explained, "The doctor said to keep him right against your skin. It will keep him warmer." Kurt gently lowered her gown down in the front just far enough to give their son a place to cuddle at the top of her chest.

He lifted the curled up baby and the kid actually griped, then looked startled by the noise he'd made. As soon as the baby was on Jane, the blanket carefully draped over him, it looked like the small human sighed with relief as he fell back to sleep.

"The nurse said he'll be pretty tired. That was quite an ordeal," Kurt explained.

A smile exploded on Jane's face. "Hi, baby," she said, shaking her head with disbelief and surprise and overwhelming joy. "Oh god," she said to Kurt, "We're not ready. We were supposed to have a few more weeks—"

Kurt shook his head, "Nothing to worry about. I've got it covered. I asked Patterson to get a car seat…she's doing testing. I don't even want to know what's involved in all of that. Reade and Zapata are at the apartment finishing up a few things that I didn't get done. Sarah's going to get a few smaller outfits and supplies…she knows what to get. Everything is taken care of."

"We didn't even pick a name yet."

"I thought we settled on Geezer?" Kurt joked.

Jane looked fondly at the bundle and said, "He does kinda look like the world's cutest little old man."

"They're always wrinkly when you first get them out of the box." Kurt replied. "Anyway, he doesn't mind waiting for his name. We'll get to know him first. For tonight, all you need to do is be here…just the three of us. He's here and he's fine. And he's ours."

Jane, tentatively at first as if she might cause him harm, traced her baby's fingers, watching the innate responses and feeling the almost impossibly delicate newborn skin. She ran the soft edge of her finger over the side of the baby's face and down his cheek, watching the way his mouth fell open at her touch.

"He's smiling," Kurt said, pointing.

"Babies don't smile when they're this small," Jane corrected. "It was in the book."

"He's obviously very advanced," Kurt argued. "And happy. Because that's a smile."

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for him."

"I was mostly a bystander."

"No you weren't," she insisted, refusing to let him shrug off her gratitude. "Thank you for helping me make this amazing little guy. And for nagging me to eat. And for following me in the woods and making me wear that ridiculous double tactical vest to protect us. And calling everyone in to take care of the car seat and everything we didn't get done. And for being such an incredible, kind, sexy, protective pain in the ass."

"I'm a sexy pain in the ass?" he chuckled. "I'm glad you appreciate my special talents."

Jane shook her head, smiling and whispering when the baby opened his eyes in her direction. "I can't believe you're finally here."


	5. Chapter 5: Family

**A/N-Okay, I was desperately in need of something FLUFFY, so I came back to this story, which is a little bit of a happy place for me to hide in sometimes. I'm sorry these updates have been so long in coming. I will try harder to update this one a bit more often. It's probably really hard to remember this story, but this is the follow-up to "The Only" where Kurt and Jane knew each other when they were younger, and now they are married and have just had their first son. I hope you enjoy! And, again, sorry it's been so long!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Family**

Kurt couldn't sleep at first, watching over his wife and child for hours before he finally closed his eyes. They were both so perfect. He couldn't believe they were real and they were his. His wife, his son, both beautiful and healthy, an actual family, all together in one room. He already loved them both more than he could really comprehend. Those were the thoughts on his mind when he'd finally lost the battle to remain alert.

As he started to wake, he heard Jane next to him, talking softly. She sounded so gentle, the woman who was literally a lethal force to be reckoned with, was whispering to their baby. "I'm not like a lot of moms," she confessed. "I don't dress like most moms or have a normal job. The only cooking I do involves a microwave. And I'm pretty new at all of this kid stuff. But I'll try really hard, if you can be patient with me. I'll protect you as best as I can, let you grow up to be whoever you want to be. And I can promise you that we will love you, whoever that may be. You're ours no matter what. There is one thing I know I did right…I married that guy over there, your Dad. He gave me the best gift ever: you. I really think he will be the most amazing father in the world. He loves us so much. He loved you before you were even here. He is the most honest, the most dedicated, most caring man I've ever known."

Kurt's eyes opened because he had to look at her, and he felt his throat tighten as his eyes watered, and then Jane noticed he was awake. She smiled at him, looking a little embarrassed that he'd probably heard. At first, he didn't see their son, but once his eyes focused, he saw a fist jutting out from a blanket and realized the baby was nursing. "Look at that!" Kurt said proudly. "He's eating?"

"Yea," Jane said, gazing down at the tiny face, her index finger brushing along the shell of his ear. "We're figuring everything out."

"How long have you been up?" he asked as he stretched.

"A few hours."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because we were fine…and after everything that happened yesterday, you were exhausted."

"So were you," he guiltily replied. "I'm sorry. Do you need anything?"

"We're fine, Kurt!" she replied, looking perfectly at ease, as if she'd been a mother for years instead of hours. "They said they have breakfast for the dads down the hall, coffee and stuff, if you want to grab something."

"I will then," he replied.

She smiled at him, seeing the way he seemed to want to help, and when the baby was done, she asked, "You want to burp him?"

"Yea," the new dad said, hurrying over and lifting his baby. The boy kept his legs folded against his body so he was still curled into a little ball. Kurt acted as if the boy was nearly too heavy to lift, bragging, "How much did you eat? You're at least ten pounds heavier than you were yesterday."

Jane laughed at her husband and watched him caring for the incredibly small version of a human being. She could watch him with their son all day.

"We were talking," Jane said as he put the infant on his shoulder, Kurt's hand more than surrounding the baby's back as he tried to burp him.

"He's talking already? That kind of genius…definitely my kid," he boasted.

"Mostly I was talking. What do you think about Benjamin? Ben?"

"Where'd you come up with that?"

"I was just trying different names out, and that one seemed to suit him."

Kurt looked toward his shoulder and considered the baby's face very studiously, then said, "I think I like it. Ben Weller. Sounds good."

"Yea," Jane smiled, standing carefully.

"Woah," Kurt hurried over, offering his arm for support.

"I'm doing fine," she dismissively answered.

"Just take it easy for a few days. For me," he tiredly requested. "Please?"

She sneered, but moved carefully over to the sink to splash water on her face. She was dying for a real shower, but wasn't permitted one just yet.

"Did the two of you discuss a middle name?" he asked.

"You want to use your name? I've noticed a lot of boys have their father's first name as their middle name, or a family name?"

"He has his very own first name…not named after anyone else. I like that," Kurt noted. "And he has my last name. So I think his middle name should come from his mom."

"I picked the first name."

"Yea, but that's not the same."

"He's going to really get picked on if his middle name is Jane," she joked.

"What about Kruger?"

Jane shook her head, "Remember how you didn't want to use the name Taylor because it's associated with too many sad memories? That name…that name doesn't hold any fond memories for me."

"Doe then," Kurt suggested.

"No. He'd have to explain his middle name and—"

"John?"

"John?" Jane asked.

"Yea," Kurt shrugged. "Jane Doe, John Doe…you get it. It will still be a nod to his kick-ass mother, but it's a normal name that requires no explanation. And, when he's old enough, he can brag to the ladies about his world-saving parents."

"Because that's what guys brag about to impress girls? Their parents?" she scoffed.

"Most guys don't have parents as cool as us," Kurt countered.

"Benjamin John Weller?"

"What do you think?" Kurt grinned.

"I think it's perfect."

* * *

Later that morning, Zapata, Reade and Patterson came to visit. They walked down the hall toward the correct room, seeing Kurt leaning out the door as he waited for them. One of the nurses on the floor was very traditional, with the old style white uniform and thick soled shoes. Kurt had joked that the woman looked like a troll who'd taken a job in the maternity ward to eat the babies. When that nurse saw the team approaching, she stood in the way.

"For the health of the baby, we ask that only immediate family visit," the nurse said to Kurt. "Your associates can visit once the baby is at home. And preferable older."

"We _are_ immediate family," Patterson said right away.

The nurse studied the team, paying extra attention to Reade and Zapata, and she scowled.

"You have a problem with my family?" Zapata said, stepping forward. "You think that just because we look a little different that—"

"It's fine," the nurse said, clearly not used to anyone challenging her. The woman was flustered for the first time, at least since Kurt and Jane had arrived. "Enjoy your visit," she added before she scurried down the hall.

Kurt chuckled at the team and said, "Well done. It took four of the FBI's finest, but that eight-hundred year-old nurse finally won't be a problem."

"Hey," Patterson said, "there are all kinds of families these days, so she better get used to it."

"Come on," Kurt nodded inside, eager to introduce everyone to Ben.

"Oh my god," Patterson said, quite literally pushing Kurt out of the way to wash her hands so she could be the first to see Jane and the baby.

Jane was already dressed in her normal clothes, in spite of protests from the hospital staff. Kurt knew her need to be able to run at a moment's notice had something to do with that, and he wasn't about to take that sense of security away from her.

"Want to hold him?" Jane asked.

"He's almost too tiny to hold," Patterson replied.

"Come here," Jane said, patting a spot at the edge of the bed next to her.

Patterson sat down, her eyes bright with excitement and nervousness, and Jane carefully placed the infant in her arms. "He's so so tiny! He's…very…tiny!"

"He is," Jane chuckled at Patterson's excitement and lack of other sufficient words, "but, so far, he's completely healthy."

The baby yawned and Patterson cooed at him, her finger reaching out to touch his little hand. "He is the coolest thing I've ever seen."

"Zapata, you're next?" Patterson asked, and Jane stood and walked over to Kurt's side, threading her arm through his and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"No thanks," Zapata said, almost like the thought was a bit unpleasant.

"You have to," Patterson insisted.

"No. Let the one with the ticking biological clock go first. Reade, you're up," Tasha deflected.

"Just because you're insecure doesn't mean I am," Reade taunted back, walking over to Patterson and lifting the baby, "Come here, little man."

"With birthing hips like those I knew you'd make a good mama," Zapata countered.

Another nurse, leggy and pretty, smiled at him immediately when she entered the room. Reade made small talk, bragging about his new role as an uncle while the nurse checked on Ben. After she'd left, Reade said, "Go on, aggravate me all you want, Zapata, this here…is my new best friend."

"Your game is weak," she continued, "you're gonna need all the help you can get."

"He can't even lift his own head yet and he's a better wingman than you," Reade continued, looking down at the baby.

"So what's his name?" Patterson asked.

"Ben," Weller said, his eyes skating over his wife, who was still leaning against him.

"Any time you want a babysitter for Ben here, you just let me know," Reade offered.

"Good luck with that," Zapata said, coming over and taking the boy from Reade. "The first time you see drool on your fancy-ass suits, this uncle thing will be over."

Tasha stopped abruptly when Ben grabbed her arm and tried to hold on, his sharp little baby nails catching her attention. Ben opened his mouth wide, only a tiny squeak emerging, but it definitely looked like he had something to say to her. The whole room grew still and silent as Tasha seemed mesmerized by the baby. She looked up, taking a moment to address Kurt and Jane, and said sincerely, "Congratulations, you guys. You make pretty babies. Strong, too," she noted as she tested his grasp, "for such a little guy."

For one moment, Tasha's eyes looked a little teary, and for all of her bluster, Kurt knew she already loved the hell out of her nephew.

Then, abruptly, she added to Ben, "You want to pick up silk ties, call Reade here. You want to have any real fun, call me or Patterson. And if anyone ever gives you a bad time at school, you just let me know and we'll shut that down real quick."

"Here, take your kid," Tasha said to Kurt, handing over the baby, her gentle expression undermining any attempt at disinterest.

They didn't stay for long, noting Jane and Kurt's general tiredness. The three friends agreed to take care of some errands to help the new parents out. Kurt certainly wasn't going to leave the room. He hated walking down the hall and leaving his family alone when he got something to eat, so he definitely wasn't about to leave the hospital.

He could feel Jane's worry, borne of everything Shepherd had done to them in their youth and the horrible things she'd seen. At night she locked the door, even though the nurses asked her not to. With her recent surgery, she wasn't as capable of self-defense, and it obviously weighed on her. She convinced Kurt to stay in the bed next to her while they took turns sleeping.

The doctors and nurses had told them the safest place for the baby was in the bassinet, but the new parents couldn't seem to put him down. They were careful to stay awake in shifts to hold the boy, keeping him right against their skin and covered with the soft baby blankets the hospital provided, warm and protected.

This adjustment was already more than what they'd been prepared for. It was exciting and overwhelming at the same time. The love in their hearts practically burst from their chests, and at the same time, the tremendous responsibility suddenly upon them was heavy and a little frightening. And the being who'd created all of this change was roughly the size and weight of a half-gallon of water. It was sort of stunning, that something this small and helpless could trigger such profound change. He'd already turned his parents' lives upside down.

His cry, although shaky, had considerable shrillness, and he was already not to be ignored. He was very good at 'requesting' his parents' attention when he needed it.

Kurt's hands had felt huge and clumsy the first few times he'd tried to peel back the tabs on the miniature diapers, but he felt like he was getting better at it each time. He was going to get a hang of this fatherhood thing.

Both he and Jane had seen acts of violence and destruction in the world that most people hadn't even heard about, but when a nurse pricked their son's heel to draw blood and gave him a vaccine, they could barely watch, both feeling a swell of pain that seemed disproportionate to the damage done. A minute after the shot, Ben was sleeping again, knotting his hand in his mother's hair, while the adults were still trying to cope.

* * *

It was Jane's shift to hold him later that night. She still couldn't seem to stop staring at him, awing over his very existence. Some part of her still wondered about the child that could have been, the one Shepherd had stolen from them so long ago. Maybe it was the swell of emotions over Ben that made her feel the loss of what could have been more profoundly.

Ben's eyes popped open just as her feelings were becoming overwhelming, and he tilted his head and studied her. He looked ridiculously like Kurt when he stared at her that way, watching and learning and trying to figure everything out, and she couldn't help but smile at the echo of Kurt in their son's face.

Noting the movement next to him, Kurt sleepily asked, "You okay?"

"I worried so much about getting him here. And now that he's here, the panic comes in waves, in between the happiness, love, and feelings of inadequacy. Maybe that's just postpartum hormones talking," she chuckled.

"I doubt it," he confessed. "Unless fathers experience postpartum hormone changes, too." She looked at him and he shrugged, "I feel the same way. It's really exciting and I'm really happy…and at the same time I'm worried that I'm going to mess something up. Considering that we've only been parents about a day now, I think I'm doing okay. But you…you're a natural."

"Think we're ready for this?"

"We are. We have to be. We're a really good team, and we always operate well under pressure. We can do this."

"There's so much to protect him from…so much out there that—"

"Hey, hey…wait," Kurt interrupted. "We're going to keep doing what we do. Look out for each other, be smart. We've got this. It'll take some time to figure out how it works with three of us, but it's gonna be great."

"You're right," Jane answered, taking a breath.

"I feel really sorry for the person dumb enough to go after Jane Doe's kid. They'd regret that for the rest of their short life."

She smiled gently at him. "You're crazy."

"Crazy smart," he bragged. "Crazy handsome. And…crazy lucky." He could say so much with just a look, and at that moment, his spoke volumes.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" she asked.

"You know, I'm really not sure," he teased. "We'll wait a few weeks 'til you're feeling better, then maybe I'll let you show me."

"Sounds nice. It'll be fun to have sex with you without a super-sized balloon belly to contend with."

"Shhh," Kurt complained, covering Ben's ears. "He's listening."

"And we're back to you being crazy again," she joked, lowering in the bed and resting her head on his chest. Jane yawned and Kurt pulled the covers up around her.

"Sleep a little. I'll keep an eye on things for a bit."

She smiled, closing her eyes, realizing how extraordinarily lucky she felt to have someone she trusted enough to take care of them so she could sleep.


End file.
